All of My Scars
by TheJokersLove
Summary: There are only a few things needed to know when living in Gotham. If you ever encounter the Joker you must run, fight, and hide if necessary. Whatever happens: Do not let him get to you.
1. Chapter 1: Run

A crack of laughter erupted from behind her. Uneasiness settled in her stomach as she could sense the joy this chase brought him. _Sick bastard_, she though as the laughter grew louder, _only a psychopath would find this funny_.

Her legs moved fast beneath her. Hair flying wild in the wind, as she moved faster. Her head flew over her shoulder to see if there was a decent distance between them. Panic engulfed her as she saw the small space separating them. Head twisting rapidly, she searched for a way out of her situation. It felt like there was no where to go; no where to hide.

The only thing she could do now was try and outrun them. Footsteps were heard behind her, the sound of their stomp echoing down the ally. She made it out of the ally, and made a sharp right; tires squealed next to her. Her breath hitched. Her heart pounded in her chest. Fear consumed her. The adrenaline kept her legs pumping. She was almost unstoppable. Aware of the fading footsteps behind her, she turned down another ally. Racing to get out the other side before she was noticed, her heels skidded to an abrupt stop.

"What's the rush, beautiful." His hand gripped her arm. In one swift motion he pulled her towards him, spun around and pushed her into the van; only to hop in afterwards, sliding the door closed behind him. Laughter rolling out of his mouth as he planted himself down in the seat next to her. His arm wrapping around her shoulders, only to close the gap between them. "You look nervous."

She watched as his forehead wrinkled. It was as if he was showing concern, but in a way where she could tell he was not distressed by how uncomfortable she felt. Her body squirmed in his hold, trying to get a barrier of air between them; her plan did not even work in the slightest.

He questioned her comfortability while leaning in towards her ear, stopping when there was only an inch between them. "Is it the scars? Want to know how I got them?" He leaned back nodding his head, as if he answered the question for her. Mouth opened to tell his story, he watched her face carefully.

"No," the answer to his first question slipped out of her mouth, "it's not the scars." She watched as his eyes opened in suspicion. People's uneasiness around him has always been because of the distracting flaws on either side of his mouth. "It's your reputation. That's it." His questions were all answered. Nodding his head as if to tell her that he understands, he leans against the back of the chair and waits for the car to reach its destination.


	2. Chapter 2: Scar

The air was crisp on the girls skin as she woke out of her slumber. Her memory faded after the words she shared with the Joker. It almost felt like she woke up from a nightmare. It was almost as if it was all a dream, but reality hit her when she looked at her surroundings. All there was, was walls. Four walls that enclosed her in a room with marble floors. The air conditioning radiating off of the cool surfaces, and raising goosebumps over her body. Her hands clasped around her arms, trying to warm them up with the friction; it wasn't enough to warm her.

After hours of waiting for something to happen she tries to sleep on the floor, seeing how there is no furniture for her to make herself comfortable with. The bare parts of her skin press against the cold marble. Her body shivers from the touch, already. Her night time turning into a fight to stay warm. For ten minutes she was able to doze off, but she was quickly woken up to her body's tremendous amount of shaking. The night was long, and restless. Her mind running through ways to get out of this mess, but her though process only being interrupted by the bang of the opening door, and warm air traveled along her skin.

"Miss me?" The Joker's high pitched voice pierced through the room. His steps echoed as he made his way towards the girl laying on the floor; hand reaching down to squeeze her arm and pull her up against him. The heat from his body ran through hers, causing her eyelids to fall. "Ah, ah, ah. Wait until we reach the room first." He protested her weariness.

She tripped as the Joker began pushing her out of the room and down the hall. The process of walking taking far longer than it should have. A few times her body nearly collapsed; had the Joker not been there, she would have been passed out on the floor already. _What am I doing? Fight him, idiot_, she thought to herself.

"Ah, here we are." She was pulled into a room. Violet walls greeted her, along with a mint green comforter. The bed was only two feet away from her, and she swears she heard it beg her. It was begging her to lay on it. "Now, beautiful, I'll make you a deal." He released her from his grip, allowing her to turn and face him. "The bed is all yours." She smiled to herself, _glorious sleep! _"All I need is your name." The Joker took a moment to think to himself. "Well, not even your, ah, real name. I just need a title to go with that pretty little face of yours."

"Scar." The girl mumbled. "Just call me Scar." Her body gravitated towards the bed, laying under the fabric, and trying to hold it as close to her as possible. _Sweet, sweet sleep_, was all she could think about.

"Scar." The joker tapped his chin with his finger. The name was rather intriguing. "Did you know," he said, "you're my third scar?" Laughter came out of his mouth, ringing in Scar's ears. His laugh dying down into a chuckle, before he completely stopped. The Joker's footsteps moved towards the bed, kicking off his shoes, and joining Scar under the covers. Scar's body was far too drained to restrict him from the bed; she could only lay still.

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her towards a warm lump. The trembling stopped. Scar's fingers gripping onto the object in front of her, and pressing against it even more. Her eyelids falling lower with each passing second. Her dreariness pulling her into a deep slumber. There was nothing on her mind. The only thing she knew at the moment was how relaxed she was.


	3. Chapter 3: Words

**Author's Note: **Hello! You might have noticed that this is my first story on here, if you didn't notice don't worry because now you know. I was displeased with myself when I discovered how short the length of my chapters turned out to be. Seeing how they turned out motivated me to try and write longer paragraphs; however, I am still experimenting with how much I can write before it turns into me making up a whole other plot. Thank you for reading, and hopefully enjoying, my story.

**Important:** In this story I am going for a different approach on the Joker's personality. I am still working out the kinks, and I hope you like my version of the Joker. My goal was to bring a new aspect to my story, and that aspect is the way the Joker acts.

* * *

Their sleep was motionless. Scar's eyes blinked themselves open; they were completely rested. Her body still, afraid to wake the sleeping man next to her. His makeup was fading, but only to the point where she can see bits and pieces of his real skin. The white paint seeped into his pores as he slept, and the beads of sweat only contaminated his pores more. Their combined body heat had made it too hot. Scar wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead, before examining his face. _Even in his sleep he looks evil_, she thought. His expression was just as tense, if not then more, as it was when he was chasing her down in the streets.

"Morning, _beau_-tiful." A low chuckle runs out the Jokers mouth as his eyes found hers. "Didn't anyone tell you it's not polite to stare?" He paused, watching as her face looked frightened. Scar did not know the Joker's boundaries, yet. For all she knew, he could kill her on the spot for just looking at him.

Instead of him speaking any further of it, he pushed himself out of bed and walked over to the closet. "Anyway, now that you are all fresh and ready, I think it's time to film a little video." The Joker walked over to the desk to grab his video camera, and checked to see that there was enough batteries for their film. "You know, filming is a hobby I quite enjoy. Usually people don't want to be in my films, but you, ah, you don't have a choice." He set the camera on a tripod and aimed it for the bed. His arm reaching over to pull Scar up into a sitting position. The click of a switchblade was heard through the room, and a sharp metal was pushed against Scar's throat. It was recording.

"Hello people of Gotham!" The Joker's voice was cheery, yet demanding. "This is my new friend, and she is a very special guest. In fact, she is so special that she will be apart of my next experiment." Scars eyes widened. Fear showed all over her face. Just as the joker wanted; the raw fear made the video look very convincing. "I am going to give you good people of Gotham a month, and a month only for this, ah, _mission_. Within a month I want the Batman to surrender his job of fighting crime: for good." His high pitched cackle rang in Scar's ears, making her wince a little as the blade pressed against her neck harder.

The metal on her throat left, and the Joker was at the video camera. He stopped the video and said, "I'll edit this later. Then I'll send it out." His gaze turned to Scar's unmoved self. "I'm not a monster," he claimed while changing the subject completely, "I just like to test people. I just like to show everyone what people are really like." The Joker paused and looked intently at Scar, debating whether or not he should go through with what he was going to say next. "Do you want to know a secret? Not that it's really a secret, it's just some personal information that not many people know."

Scar's heart pounded. She could imagine so many possibilities of the thing he was about to reveal about himself. Her lips formed a genuine smile, "I'd love to hear your secret. What is it about?"

"It's, ah, it's my name."

Scar stared at him, not knowing how to respond. Why would he tell her his name? Does he know how easy she could ruin him? Unless he never planned on letting her live long enough to use it, or maybe she would be held prisoner and unable to tell anyone. Her mind swirled with the possibilities. Scar could feel her palms sweat and her breathing go unsteady. She was over-thinking to the point where it drove her insane, and he hasn't even done anything to her, yet.

"I know, I know. How can such a bad guy like me give away something so personal? Let me tell you something. Does killing a few people really make me a bad guy? I mean, yeah, it sounds worse than it feels. It's the new's fault that I have this reputation. Your opinion of me is solely based off of what you watch on a television, but have you ever tried to get to know me? No." I stared at the Joker in awe. Everything he was saying was right; there was no arguing with it. It's not like anyone has tried to reach out to him and show us a good side of him, unless there isn't a good side. He's playing the innocent card, but how could he play that card when he is still responsible for many deaths.

_Does he think I'm stupid? _Scar thought, _Of course he is a bad guy, he **killed** people! _"You could be the nicest guy on earth, but the second you hurt someone I will never think of you as anything but evil." Her words stung as she spit them out. He was reaching out to her, but her words slapped him back. "I mean how dumb do you think I look?" Scar asked. "I will never think of you as a nice guy, Joker."

His handprint stung on her face. "You have no right to treat me like dirt." His eyes were as cold as his expression, "You're no better than I am when you speak like that. Words can be just as bad as actions."

Scar's hand touched the reddening mark on her face; her hand cold against the tender skin. What he just did only proved her right, but she thought about his words. _ 'You're no better than I am when you speak like that.' _He was right. Words can be just as bad as actions, but her words were not killing people out of enjoyment.

"Oh, ah, and call me Jack. Joker is a bit, ah, overused." He walked out of the room, the last sound he made was the click that came from the lock on the door.

Scar fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. _Jack. That's not a bad name._


End file.
